Mr Thornton
by Hopeless827
Summary: This is a telling of North and South through John Thorton's perspective.  Maybe not very original, but I always felt that he was such a complex character that he deserved a little more understanding of his inner workings from the reader. "T" just in case.
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own any of the characters. They are Ms. Gaskell's. I am merely giving my perspective on their lives._

Life in Milton has never been easy for John Thornton and his mother. His sister, Fanny, for the most part was sheltered from trouble. She had been too young to remember the strife they encountered when their father took his own life, leaving them destitute, forced to live hand to mouth. John, however, could still feel the pain of hunger and taste the acidic taste that only came when one's stomach had been empty for too many days. Although John had not been hungry for many years now, the fear of going back to that state kept him up at night and moved him to continue working to make his cotton trade at Marlborough Mills succeed.

As John readied himself for another day, he suspected that something was to be different about today. It did not look different; the smell and haze of Milton greeted him on this morning much the same as it had every day since he lived here. No, there was a different feeling about this day. The feeling one gets deep in their bones telling them that something is about to change. John did not like change for all too often change brought on pain and misery for him and those he loved. However, the feeling was entrenched and would not be pried away. He would have no choice but to hope it a mere bought of paranoia brought on by rumors of striking workers. He did not have time on this day to entertain feelings of doubt or fear of change. He would need to push these feelings down and go about his day as he always did; arriving at the mill early and leaving after everyone had gone home. Today could not be different.

John Thornton arrived at his office at 7:00 am sharp. He began the daily ritual of pouring over books of numbers and ledgers of business transactions. He peered out the window as the workers began their journey across the mill yard to start the machines. He listened intently for the looms to creak to a rhythm. A rhythm that was more beautiful to him than any music could ever be. To John it was the sound of survival. The roar of the machinery in the mills meant that he and his mother and sister could rest easy on this night. God forbid there be a day without that sound. That, to John, would surely be a living hell.

It was midday when the knock on his office door startled him away from his books. It was his foreman Mr. Williams, coming as he did every day with the post.

"Come in", John grumbled anxious to realize that almost half the day was gone and his work was not even close to half way finished.

"Good day, Sir", Mr. Williams greeted John as he entered the room. "I hope you are well today. It appears we have the usual items in the post, Sir, except for this one letter from your landlord, Mr. Bell, I believe."

John groaned at the thought of what might be contained in the letter from Mr. Bell. He had only met the man on three occasions. The first time he made his acquaintance was when he was a young boy working at the drapers. Mr. Bell had placed a rather large order and John had the unwanted pleasure of delivering the goods to Mr. Bell's house in Oxford. Why he couldn't have purchased the drapes from a draper closer to Oxford, John did not know. All he could remember was that he had to carry two large and heavy parcels two miles from the train station to Mr. Bell's house. The man barely said thank you and tipped him very little. The second occasion was when John signed the lease for Marlborough Mills. That was a much happier day for John as it marked the beginning of the end of his life of poverty and obscurity. The third time that John and Mr. Bell met was as equal gentlemen at some party or another, he could not even remember. At any rate, news from any one's landlord was likely bad news and John opened the letter with sickening anticipation.

_Dear Mr. Thornton,_

_I hope that my letter finds you and the mill well. Most likely you are puzzling over the nature of my letter. And as I know you to be a shrewd business man, you are most likely assuming that I mean to bear you bad news. Let me assure you that this is not the case. I have always prided myself on being the silent intellectual when it came to business and I will remain such today. My letter is written to ask of you a favor._

_My dearest and oldest friend, Richard Hale and his wife and lovely daughter Margaret are moving to Milton at the end of the month. Mr. Hale was a pastor of a small congregation in the south near Hampshire. He has, for personal reasons and reasons of conscience, that I cannot reveal, decided to leave the church and move to Milton. I have secured him a modest living there as a tutor. The Hales know no one in Milton and do not have the resources to find a suitable home. I was hoping that you would be kind enough to use your connections in Milton and secure them a clean, safe place to reside. They cannot afford much as Mr. Hale will be restricted to only 20 pounds per annum to pay for housing. _

_I would not ask this favor of a tenant unless it was extremely important to me personally. I thank you in advance and will be happy to compensate you for whatever time you spend on securing their new home._

_Warmest regards,_

_John Bell _

John Thornton threw the letter to the side and ran his hands through his dark hair.

"Is there a problem , Sir?" Mr. Williams asked.

John had forgotten that Williams was still in the room but without looking up he replied.

"No, only that I have yet another distraction to add to my list. Mr. Bell has asked me to find a suitable house for a friend and his family. Damn if I don't already have enough on my plate to digest for one day, now I have to act as Bell's errand boy as well?"

"Forgive me, Sir, but I believe that house in Crampton is for lease again. It is not very fancy, but it is cheaply priced and is in a nice part of town…if there is such a thing." Mr. Williams joked.

"Thank you Williams. Please have the landlord meet me there at 3:00 pm this afternoon. If it is livable, then it shall be the place. I cannot be spending my days searching for a house for a disenchanted clergyman and his wife and child."

With that Mr. Williams left John to continue his day. The nagging feeling of change was still palpable to him. However, convinced that Mr. Bell's letter was the least of his worries, he resumed work. Little did he know that the small note of favor was to signal the beginning of a very different life for John Thornton. Weeks past and except for a few letters that John wrote to Mr. Hale- which oddly enough were not answered- to discuss some detail or another about his favor to Mr. Bell, the days past as they always had.

oooOooo

The evening before the expected arrival of the mysterious Hales from the south, John joined his mother and Fanny for dinner. Mrs. Thornton was a stern woman who showed little emotion to anyone; anyone except John. John was her pride and her passion. She had come to rely on John in the years following her husband's death. She knew that John would always be honest with her and that their bond was one that no one could break. Dinner occurred without much talk, which was the usual way. Mrs. Thornton would, on occasion, ask her son how his day had gone and if there had been any new talk of a strike. As any other evening, it was Fanny that filled the silence. However, luckily for both John and his mother, they had little interest in her discussions of gowns and balls and what the latest fashions were coming from London. This afforded them the convenience to sit quietly and not feel the need to find words of conversation to fill the space of the room.

After dinner, the three moved to the sitting room, which was customary and John looked over the newspaper while Mrs. Thornton and Fanny worked on their needlepoint.

"I'll not be home for lunch tomorrow, mother." John began. "I must meet a Mr. Hale and his family at the Milton Hotel. They are moving her from somewhere in the south and our friend Mr. Bell has requested that I assist them in finding suitable housing. "

"John, you do too much for others." Mrs. Thornton replied in here think northern accent. "The Master of Marlborough Mills shouldn't be asked to run errands for his landlord. Mr. Bell would do well to remember that without your management, his rent check won't get paid. It's an insult to your position."

John smiled at his mother. He knew well that she always viewed him as much more important as he actually was. John Thornton, for all of his outward appearance of stern and heartless Master, was, on the inside, still very much the young boy forced to grow up too quickly without a father. He trusted only his mother with his heart and his feelings. He had trusted his father before, and the end was a pain he lived with still.

"Don't worry yourself mother, I have arranged do do this during the lunch hour, I will not be neglecting my duties as Master. Mr. Williams has already secured a house in Crampton, I only wish to be sure that they find it suitable.

"Crampton, that dirty little suburb," Fanny chimed in. "What sort of people would Mr. Bell be acquainted with that would find that a suitable place to live?"

John and Mrs. Thornton gave each other a knowing look. Fanny had been far too young to remember that they themselves had lived many years in a dirty little hovel down in the Princeton district; the area now where most of the mill workers lived.

"He is an ex-clergyman. He is going to teach on Sundays at the Lyceum and take private pupils I believe. Apparently there was some issue of conscience that made it impossible for him to stay with his parsonage and Mr. Bell has secured him the teaching position here. I was thinking that I might meet with him once a week and renew my acquaintance with literature. It was one of my favorite subjects at school when I was young." John looked away for he knew that his mention of having to leave school to become a student of hard labor and life would unintentionally grieve his mother.

"Ex-clergyman with a conscience, " sniffed Mrs. Thornton, "I have never heard of such a dilemma. Surely something scandalous happened to have a man drag his family so far from a life they have always known. The north is so different from the south. I am afraid they will find Milton a bit fast paced for their liking. You said there was a child?"

"Yes, a daughter. Although now that I think on it, Mr. Bell never specified her age. But obviously she must be young to still be under her father's roof. "

"Either young or unattractive, I dare say." Fanny laughed, proud that she had been so quick witted. It was not a frequent occurrence.

John frowned at his sister. When did she become such a snob? Sometimes he wished that she could be told about those terrible years spent in the gutter. He often thought his mother did her a disservice by shielding her all that time and making believe that they weren't starving. Letting Fanny eat her portion of the supper so that she wouldn't go hungry or know that they were on the verge of starving every day. He believed that Fanny would have grown up with much more character and compassion had she been allowed to know the truth. Now it was too late. She was bound to be this sniveling creature that only thought about herself. For whatever his mother's reasoning, the damage was done.

"Well not all women can be blessed with your beauty, Fanny." John retorted. "Otherwise, you would only be another face in a sea of beautiful faces. Certainly, your personality would never afford you to be singled out among a room of similar beauty."

Fanny's mouth gapped open as she appeared to be wounded by John's comment. She look at her mother for support but Mrs. Thornton remained focused on her sewing.

John folded his newspaper and placed it on the stand next to his chair. Standing he kissed his mother on the cheek. "Good night mother...Fanny. I am exhausted from the day's work and I am going to bed. The morning will be here much too soon for my liking and I need to get some sleep."

Mrs. Thornton smiled up at her son and patted his hand. She worried about her son. He worked too hard and spent too little time in the company of ladies worthy of his affections; if such a creature existed. It saddened her that he ascended the staircase to an empty room each night. Although, her own marriage ended tragically, she had known what it had felt like to share a deep love with her husband. She mourned him to this day. She believed that there was only one person made for another; she had found that and treasured the memory.

oooOooo

Morning came much too early for John. He went through his usual rituals of getting dressed, eating breakfast, and going to the mill, pouring over books etc. Before he was aware, the hour had come to meet Mr. Hale at the hotel. John informed Mr. Williams that he would be gone for about an hour and set off.

The streets of Milton seem especially dusty on this day. The air was filled with the acidic smell of industry and it burned John's nostrils. The feeling was welcome, however, as to John it was the smell of progress and profit. It was the smell that he had grown to love. He had only been to the south once and remembered quite well that the clean air and open spaces seem suffocating to him. He would take the dirty smoky air of an industrial city over the countryside any day.

When John arrived at the hotel, he was told that the Hales had stepped out and they were expected back within the hour. "Blast it." He thought to himself. "Now my entire afternoon will be delayed because of this damned favor. Mother is right, I do worry too much about others."

Upon his second return, he was informed that the Hales were still not back but expected at any moment and he was welcome to wait for them in the sitting room. Although John thought this a useless endeavor, his curiosity to see at least one member of the Hale family allowed him to be shown to the sitting room and wait.

It was a small room with oak woodworking throughout. John took a seat near the window so that he could see if Mr. Hale returned. As he watched the street, he noticed an older gentleman escorting a young lady into the hotel. Curiously, the older gentleman immediately exited and walked in the direction of Canute Street. After waiting ten minutes, his anger was rising and he had resolved to leave his regrets with the desk manager and return to the mill. Just as he stood to leave, the sitting room door opened and a young woman of delicate features entered.

"Mr. Thornton, I believe." The girl began. "I am Margaret Hale, Richard Hale's daughter. Will you sit down? My father brought me to the door, not a minute ago, but unfortunately he was not told that you were here, and he has gone away on some business. But he will come back almost directly. I am sorry you have had the trouble of calling twice."

There was an awkward pause during which John could not find his words. He was completely taken aback by the figure that walked in the room. He was expecting a child or a younger girl. The woman in front of him was certainly no little girl. She radiated confidence yet humility. She was simply dressed in a dark colored dress and wearing a close fit straw bonnet. She wore an Indian shawl around her shoulders and John mused that she resembled some exotic empress or another that he had seen illustrated in one of his literature books. She was quite unlike any lady he had ever seen before and he was starting to regret his decision on Crampton. Surely, a lady such as Margaret Hale would not be happy in such a place.


	2. Chapter 2

So it was that the next 20 minutes past with great discomfort to John Thornton. He surmised that his companion was likewise pained by the situation she found forced upon her. It was obvious that she was tired and wished for nothing more but for John to disappear. He may not have been greatly experienced with the internal workings of the fairer sex, but John Thornton was no fool; he was well aware that his presence was not comforting to Miss Hale. However, he had wasted the majority of his afternoon already waiting, he would not leave the hotel until he met and discussed their living arrangements with Mr. Hale. At least this is the lie to which John became convinced to ease his guilt regarding his true curiosity.

"How have you enjoyed your first visit to Milton?" John began, anxious to end the silence in the room.

"I find it very different from home, thank you, Mr. Thornton." Margaret answered him in cold indifference.

"Indeed, I am not surprised. Milton is, I am sure, vastly different from…."

"Helstone in Hampshire." She completed for him.

"Yes, Helstone. Well, I believe that once you get settled, you will find that Milton has much to offer as well. Perhaps the air and the people are a bit more raw here than in Helstone, but we are a manufacturing city and we do not have the time for idle past times." John was sorry he said it as soon as the words left his mouth. He was sure that he had offended Miss Hale and noticed that her face hardended and her back became poker straight.

"I am sure that Milton has its…charms….as you say, Mr. Thornton. However, I would not be so quick to criticize the south as idle and therefore without its own virtues. Our ways may be more simple in your opinion but I can assure you that we are not the primitive people that you have sketched us to be."

When she finished she lifted her chin in defiance and John realized that the good favor of Margaret Hale would not be something easily gain, even if he should seek it. He was about to apologize and explain his comment when Richard Hale entered the room.

To say that John Thornton was relieved to see Mr. Hale enter the room would have been a great understatement. Quite frankly, Miss Hale was making him anxious. In the last 30 minutes spent in her company John had cycled from liking her to hating her to finally settling on the idea that she might be someone that he must know better. Nay, John Thornton was not accustomed to vacillating emotion.

Margret crossed the room to meet her father. "Father, we have a visitor. This is our mysterious Mr. Thornton whom Mr. Bell has spoken of so often in his correspondence with you."

"Ah, Mr. Thornton!" Mr Hale exclaimed extending his hand in greeting. "At last we meet. I thank you for your assistance in finding us suitable lodging. I am sure that you are far too busy to spend time on such idle pursuits….and for total strangers, none-the-less."

"Yes, father, Mr. Thornton was just telling me how much more virtuous the north is than the south when it comes to the sin of wasting time." Margret said sarcastically glaring at John.

John met the challenge undaunted. "No, Miss Hale is mistaken. I was merely trying to ease her mind as it was obvious that she appeared weary and I suspected that a bit of homesickness may have been the culprit. I was hoping to open her eyes to the positives of her new home. There was no insult or injury intended, I can assure you sir." As John said this, he could not help but remain focused on Margaret Hale's every expression. She, mistaking his attentions as a challenge, met his look with pride and an almost haughty air. John was mesmerized to say the least.

"Yes, well, I am sure you meant well Mr. Thornton. I am afraid that Margaret has been a bit displaced from her home most of her life. She has spent the better part of her last 9 years in London with her Aunt Shaw on Harley Street and had only returned to Helstone for good when greeted with the news of our departure." Mr. Hale looked weary and John realized this move was painful for the entire family and felt that a change of subject was necessary.

"I understand from our mutual friend, Mr. Bell, that you will be teaching and taking on private pupils. I would very much enjoy picking up my literature again. I am afraid it has suffered greatly at the hands of the mill." John was smiling for the first time since greeting the Hales and he thought that he noticed Margaret's continence soften a bit.

"I would like that as well, Mr. Thornton." Mr. Hale agreed. "Once we are settled in the new house, I will write to you to set a regular time. " Mr. Hale was encouraged by this early sign of interest in his teaching services. He hoped above all that he might be able to once again support his family in the manner that they deserved.

Mr. Hale turned to Margaret. "My dear, speaking of the house, I am afraid that we will have to live with the current papers. The land lord is quite set against incurring the added expense of changing them to better reflect the light tones that we had at Helstone. Do you believe that your mother will be terribly disappointed?"

Margaret forced a smile for her father. "Oh, Papa, I am sure that Mother and I will manage with the existing papers. Perhaps we can arrange the furniture in such a way as to reduce the attention drawn to them. We will manage."

Mr. Hale patted his daughter's hand seemingly lost in thought.

The cloud that fell over Margaret's face was not lost on John. He watched with interest at how wall coverings could depress such a young woman. Surely he had not misjudged her and she was not as shallow as Fanny to allow wall paper to give her such concern. No, he thought to himself, there must be deeper meaning in this change of attitude.

If there was a deeper source for Margaret's sadness over the news that the old, dark and dingy papers were to remain in the house at Crampton she was not going to be one to reveal it: at least not to John Thornton. He found himself compelled to help; how he did not know, but he felt the uncontrollable urge to make Margaret Hale happy.

"Well," John began as he cleared his throat, "I see that you have done well to find a nice house in a decent part of Milton, I will be on my way. I am afraid that my absence at the mill has been too long and I will have collected quite a bit of work upon my return. Good day Mr. Hale, Miss Hale."

"Yes, well, thank you again Mr. Thornton for your assistance in this matter. I will look forward to seeing you soon for our first lesson." Mr. Hale replied.

John looked at Margaret who just stared blankly past him out the window. He tipped his hat to which she barely made the effort to curtsey. This slight was not lost on John who walked back to Marlborough Mill in anger. What a self-righteous little thing that Margaret Hale was. Dislike for her regained dominance for the moment. He had done nothing but tried to extend kindness and help to her and her father and she greeted him with the cold civility of a hired hand. He was not a gentleman in the traditional definition, but it was not a title he sought; these gentlemen of London and farther south who live a life of idleness. What sort of pride could a man take in sitting by while others worked his land or ran his affairs? He was a self-made gentleman and went to bed each night tired but satisfied with the knowledge that he had, for yet another day, _earned_ his place among the Milton aristocracy. The John Bells of the world did not hold his respect. Yet, there was something different about the Hales. Mr. Hale was obviously a gentleman and very much still a man of God. Margaret, on the other hand, was a finished lady who appeared, at least to John, to be trying to be stronger on the outside so as not to betray her inner feelings. Oddly, she reminded him a small bit of his mother.

This internal conflict regarding feelings about Margaret Hale continued during his walk so that by the time John had reached his office, he had already changed his mind again and had decided not to make a decision about Miss Hale until he got to know her better. As the day pressed on, he found it hard to concentrate on anything but the manner in which she filled the room , the arch of her brow and the pleasing pout of her mouth. Several times he caught himself feeling envious about the way that her eyes lit up when her father entered the room. He felt an odd yearning for her to respond that way to his presence. He then remembered how bravely she tried to hide her disappointment that the papers at the house could not be changed to reflect something a little closer to what she had loved at home. Strangely he felt that he was responsible for trying to relieve some of her sadness. "At least this much I can do." He said to himself.

Once the day had ended, John made his way to Canute Street to speak with the land lord of the Hales' new home. The land lord, although resistant to spending the effort to make frivolous changes for a country clergyman and his family, was more than happy to oblige the wealthy and influential John Thornton, Master of Marlborough Mills. Miss Hale would have her papers indeed and, although she would not know it, she would have John Thornton to thank.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry this took so long. I hope you enjoy the next glimpse into Mr. Thornton's thoughts._

John Thornton was not one for giving into the follies of daydreaming. However, it was on this day that he could not stop the frivolous pastime. He had thrice refocused his attention on the numbers and columns in his ledgers and, at least on two occasions, had to correct a glaring miscalculation. His mind, usually a pinpoint of focus and all business was otherwise engaged, entrapped more like it, by the puzzle that was Miss Margaret Hale. How was it that this country southern simple young lady could distract him? He had never given another woman so much thought before. In fact, for the most part, John Thornton looked upon women as a necessary evil: necessary as it would one day be required of him to produce an heir to his holdings and to do so would require a wife. He was not a sentimental man and therefore did not believe that he would marry for love as much as for station and understanding. Station so that his fortune may be maintained properly and so that the lady would have the necessary skills to act properly in society and run a prosperous household. Understanding, so that such a lady would know her place in his life, would be as mother of his children and mistress of the home at Marlborough Mills leaving business and key decisions to him.

John knew many examples of such women. They were all around him in Milton. The refined young and handsome Anne Latimer came to mind when he thought of such a match. Miss Latimer was approximately Miss Hale's age. She was presently away at finishing school in Sweden and due to return by next year. John knew that his mother was secretly harboring hopes that Miss Latimer's return would spark a union that would result in the efficient arrival of grandchildren. No, Mrs. Thornton never spoke of it aloud, but it was implied in her glances whenever Miss Latimer became the topic of conversation. Of course, John realized the prudence of such a match. Mr. Latimer was his greatest lender at the bank. Being his son-in-law would certainly be convenient. And, true, Miss Latimer did possess all the qualities that John would seek in a wife. She was accomplished, pretty, soft spoken and, whenever they did meet, seemed to be interested in him. In fact, John himself, had decided that when Miss Latimer returned to Milton, he would begin a formal courtship and not try to avoid what seemed to be the inevitable. That was until two weeks ago when Miss Hale literally walked into his life on that afternoon at the hotel. The thought of Miss Hale as his wife, however, was almost laughable. It was clear from every angle that she cared nothing for him; in fact, some of what she displayed may have been described as contempt. Still, there was something about this daughter of a penniless, ex-minister that wormed its way into his brain and would not leave him.

John jumped at the sound of the mill whistle announcing that the last shift had ended. He glanced at the clock on the wall and then at his own pocket watch as if not believing that the day could have past so quickly, with so little work accomplished. He looked at his books and growled to himself. "Well, I guess these will have to wait until later." With that, John, closed his books, grabbed his coat and descended the stairs to the mill yard. He had informed his mother earlier that he would be dining with Hales this evening and would only be home briefly to change his clothes. He laughed recalling his mother's confusion as to why he would bother to change into his finery to take supper with such people. John lied that he did it out of respect for Mr. Hale; who was, after all a gentleman. But his mother saw through the mask, even if John would not admit it. His concern of appearance was for the youngest, and fairest member of the Hale family.

"Mother," he replied to her inquiry. "Mr. Hale is a gentleman, and therefore I will show him the respect he deserves by dressing appropriately. Besides, I have yet to meet Mrs. Hale and would you not like me to make a good first impression on our newest Milton acquaintances?"

"I doubt that Mr. Hale is such a gentleman that gives a fig for the fashion of a young man. Mrs. Hale I cannot speak to. However, John, I do find it possible that you are concerned about your appearance to Miss Hale." Mrs. Thornton scoffed.

John knelt down beside his mother's chair. "Never fear, mother, I am afraid that no matter what type of dress I don, Miss Hale will regard me a brutish tradesman. You can be assured that I am safe from any plans that Miss Hale may have for me; for if she does have plans, none of them involve me staying in her presence longer than what is necessary for politeness sake."

"Well then, in that case, I have decided I do not like this Miss Hale from the south. Be careful John, many times what one sees as the truth is but a clever device to conceal it. I do not like this Miss Hale. Her presence in Milton makes me uneasy."

John rose to his feet, kissed his mother on the forehead and chuckled. "Oh, mother, first you do not like her for fear that she would trap me into marriage, then you do not like her because she won't. If only my workers had such blinded loyalty, we would put every other mill out of business. Don't wait up."

Mrs. Thornton waved off his jest, but could not help but notice that ever since the arrival of Miss Hale her son was different. He was often lost in thought and did not answer questions when first addressed. Many evenings he starred into his supper plate pushing the food around without taking a bite. Mrs. Thornton had been a widow for a very long time, but she dared she still recognized the signs of distraction that accompany interest in the opposite sex. She did not believe that her son was yet in love, but she did fear that it would not take too much encouragement on the part of the newest belle of Milton to tip John in that direction. She would need to call on these Hales soon to make opinions for herself.

oooOooo

Without realizing, John's pace quickened the closer he got to the Hale's residence at Crampton. His heart was racing and his palms were a bit sweaty as he pulled to cord for the doorbell. A ruddy faced women of about 50 answered the door. John was actually surprised that the Hale's could keep a house servant.

"John Thornton calling on Mr. Hale." John announced as he tipped a hand to the brim of his hat. The housekeeper looked him up and down with a critical eye that made John quite uneasy. So much so that he felt offended and was about to ask if there was a problem when she finally broke the silence.

"Yes, Sir. The Master is expecting you. Please come in and wait by the stairs. The Hales are in their parlor at the top of the steps, please allow me to announce your arrival." Without his consent, she disappeared up the steps to a room at the right of the landing. John could hear muffled voices and thought that he heard Miss Hale scolding the housekeeper; probably for saying something untoward about their guest. This was new for John; a house servant taking on airs toward someone who is clearly above their station? Is this how servants acted in the south? If so, then he hoped that none of the other former staff of the Hales decided to migrate to Milton. It was bad enough dealing with unappreciative mill workers let alone to have to go home and fall under the scrutiny of the house staff. John was feeling a bit uneasy when the housekeeper returned at the top of the steps.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hale will see you now, Sir. Please come join them in the parlor."

Just Mr. and Mrs. Hale? No mention of Miss Hale. John felt instant regret and disappointment. Not completely sure why he was having such feelings, but they were as clear as the scowl on the face of the lady that waited for him at the top of the stairs. She showed him to the room where the Hales were sitting. A quick glance around the room sent a leap through John's chest for occupying the space was Mr. Hale, Mrs. Hale and in a chair near the window, Miss Margret Hale.

The room was smaller than most in his own home. But somehow, the Hales had managed to make the simple furnishings feel much more inviting than any other space in which John had ever sat. The papers on the walls were obviously new and John felt a sense of pride at being anonymously responsible for the improvement. The prints were soft and light and John mused that he was likely getting a small glimpse into the type of home in which Miss Hale must have spent much of her childhood. This intimate thought calmed John's mind and made him feel as though he owned intelligence that no other in Milton could claim regarding their latest addition. Mr. Hale greeted John with his usual ease and civility.

"John!" Mr. Hale exclaimed. "How wonderful that you could join us this evening. Margaret you remember?" Mr. Hale made a sweeping motion in Margaret's general direction.

"Of course, Miss Hale, how good to see you again." John said as he covered the small distance that separated them. She was standing near the window wearing a simple cream colored linen dress with small pink flowers. A thin gold bracelet encircled her delicate wrist and the fading light of the afternoon sun casted a flattering glow about her face. Her hair, which John realized he had not noticed for it had been hiding under her straw bonnet upon their first meeting, was held in place by several flower-adorned clasps which resembled those on her dress. It was shimmering in the light; dark brown with flecks of red that seemed to dance when she moved. Margaret lowered her eyes and gave John a polite curtsey which he returned with a slight nod and bow. Not able to remove his eyes from her form he realized his impoliteness when he saw Margaret's face flush a bit and heard Mr. Hale clear his throat as if to remind John that there were others in the room that required his attention.

"John," Mr. Hale resumed, "This is my lovely wife, Maria. She was not with us on our first trip to Milton." It was obvious that Mr. Hale was very proud of the women in his life. John, for the first time, thought how satisfying it must be to feel such pride toward another human being; other than ones mother, of course.

"Mrs. Hale, I am very glad to finally make your acquaintance. I hope that you find your accommodations suitable to your tastes." John observed the woman before him. It was hard to imagine that such a lively, strong, spirited creature such as Margaret Hale could have been born of such a tired and delicate-looking person as Mrs. Hale. John was surprised at Mrs. Hale's obvious frailty. She was not near Margaret's height and he was sure weighed no more than a young boy. Her face, although kind in looks, was drawn and pained. He thought how her presence would contrast with his own mother who was the picture of strength and sheer will. He doubted that a friendship between those two ladies would be fast in the making. That would be a shame for he had an unexplainable need to become closer to the Hales.

"Thank you Mr. Thornton. As you can see, we were able to convince the landlord to change the papers after all. Of course they are not as light as those in our home in Helstone, but they are very close indeed."

"I am glad that they were able to pass muster, Mrs. Hale. They do the room a great service."

The introductions were briefly interrupted by the housekeeper announcing that dinner was ready to be served.

"Thank you Dixon." Mr. Hale acknowledged.

"_Ah. Dixon is it",_ John thought to himself. _"The dragon lady has a name after all"._

The dining room was much like the parlor. Small, simply decorated but somehow inviting and warm. Again, John took a mental inventory of all of the items that adorned the room. The small candle sticks that were positioned at each end of the fireplace mantle, the china hutch and mirror that lined the wall of one side of the room. The other wall was host to a few family portraits, one of which, John presumed was Margaret as a small child. Again, a sense of fascination and something akin to pride overcame John at the realization that he was privy to details regarding Margaret Hale that no other in Milton yet knew. There was another reason for John to delight in the smallness of the dining room. It allowed for a table only large enough to seat four to five people, and therefore placed Margaret directly across from him. Thus, it was that during dinner he tried to remain concentrated on the conversation at hand; ever distracted, however, by the mysterious creature that sat a mere table's width away barely speaking a word. John and Mr. Hale conversed through dinner about the classics, they decided that John would come every Wednesday evening after work to resume his studies and that becoming reacquainted with their mutual friend Plato would be the first order of business. Mrs. Hale added the usual niceties; inquiring about John's mother and sister and asking John's opinion about where the best cloth or fruit could be purchased. Margaret, on the other hand, sat mostly silent only speaking when directly addressed and looking quite uncomfortable at times. After dinner, the party resumed their conversation back in the parlor where Dixon brought a small pot of tea and four fine china teacups. Margaret chose the seat slightly to John's left near the fire which made it difficult for John to spy on her without notice. Mr. Hale sat to John's right and Mrs. Hale sat on the settee directly across working on her sewing. As Mr. Hale and John's conversation continued it moved into matters of the cotton business, the inventive spirit of Milton and the fact that the new machinery and equipment was quickening the pace of the industrial revolution in northern England. As John finished a speech on the satisfaction one feels in the knowledge that they have made something from what started as a mere fluff on the end of stem, he allowed himself to glance in Margaret's direction only to find her fighting sleep.

"But I fear all of our talk of men and industry has bored Miss Hale." John said with a teasing.

Margaret bristled at John's mocking tone and stifled a yawn midway completion. Sitting up straight she apologized.

"Forgive me Mr. Thornton, I am merely tired from the unpacking of the past few weeks." With a forced smile, she stood, reached for the empty cup sitting next to John and filled it with fresh tea. John was hypnotized by her actions. How could the simple gesture of serving tea be so fascinating? He was mesmerized by the shape of Margaret's fingers and the sound that the spoon made as she stirred in his sugar and later laid the spoon on the saucer. Margaret then took the two steps to his seat and handed him his tea. As he reached up and took the cup his hand grazed the length of her delicate tapered index finger. It was the smallest of accidental touches; completely unnoticed by everyone in the room except for the two involved. John immediately sought eye contact to determine whether Margaret too felt the jolt of electricity that now consumed his entire hand, arm and shot through his heart. If she did feel it, she was not owning up to it and John was left feeling foolish at such a boyish reaction to the touch of a mere girl.

"I am sorry, Mr. Thornton." Margaret began as she sat back in her chair. John looked at her a bit puzzled. "For what"? He replied shortly believing her apology was directed toward their brief encounter.

"It is just that as I sat here listening you discuss your work and your trade, I could not help but notice your lack of feeling toward those who work in your mill. I met a young lady this afternoon, Bessy Higgins, she works at Marlborough Mill and she and her family live under the most deplorable conditions. Do you not feel it is your responsibility to see that your workers are well looked after?"

This was not the turn in the conversation that John had expected. He was immediately on guard and did not like the accusing manner in which Miss Hale approached him. "I do what I can to be sure that my workers have a save environment at the mill. There is little I can do past that. I am not here to play parent or guardian to grown men and women and their families."

"But you speak of your machinery with much more regard that you do your workers of flesh and blood. How can you as Master, someone who has always known comfort and ease of life, how can you so easily dismiss their predicaments? You must forgive me for this is not a manner in which I am accustomed of thinking of my fellow man. In the south, we do well to be sure that no family starves or goes without decent clothing or shelter." Margaret's tone had gone from slightly patronizing to completely judgmental with a bit of pride. Her eyes flashing with new found contempt for the man that sat next to her, dressed in all of his finery and speaking of his workers as if they were less important than a spinning wheel or loom.

"Margaret, please, you are offending our guest." Mr. Hale interjected. "John, forgive Margaret, I fear that the move to Milton has stirred some anxiety in her that manifests in strange ways. I assure you she meant no insult."

Although John appreciated Mr. Hale's attempt at an apology, it was too late. He was now concentrating on keeping his anger in check and metering his tone so that he did not reveal his true nature. How dare this girl, this country nobody, come to his city, a city she knew nothing of, and accuse him of such wrong doing and complacency? How dare she, this childish woman, who knew nothing of his past, speak to him as if she was intimate with his true character?

"No need to apologize, Mr. Hale." John began. "I can assure you Miss Hale that my life has not always been as it is today, Master of Marlborough Mill. As a young boy, I was forced to leave school and childhood and face the responsibilities of a grown man. My father, God rest is soul, died under the most miserable of circumstances. He left me, my mother and my younger sister, Fanny, broken and destitute. I was forced to take work in the draper's shop giving my earned wages to my mother. From that she managed to have me save 3 shillings a week, enough, over time to lease the mill and dig my family out of the debt that my father gifted to us upon his death. So you see, Miss Hale, I know exactly what it is like to live in such deplorable conditions, to not know when the next meal will be afforded and to see one's own mother deny herself food so that a younger sibling might eat. I know. I also know that hard work and self-denial can dig a man out of such miserable circumstances. I am giving my workers the same opportunities to better their lives that I was given. Whether or not they choose to take it is their business, not mine."

Margaret and Mrs. Hale appeared stunned. Mr. Hale, observed John, did not look quite as shocked. Most likely, Mr. Bell had informed Mr. Hale of John's miserable past with a father who had fallen prey to a speculation scheme that had gone wrong leaving his family with no money and him taking the coward's way by killing himself. John did not care. It was a large part of what made him the man he was today; strong, self-denying, patient and hard-working.

John stood and shook Mr. Hale's hand. "Well Mr. Hale, I believe I have likely worn out my welcome. I should be getting home to see how my mother is getting on. Mrs. Hale, Miss Hale, thank you for your hospitality. " Intent on not leaving on an awkward note, John extended his hand to Margaret. "Come, Miss Hale, let us not allow our disagreement ruin an otherwise perfectly lovely evening. I would prefer to part as friends."

Margaret was clearly confused by this gesture and instead of taking John's hand cast her eyes away. "Forgive me Mr. Thornton, I did not mean any offense on my part. I believe father is right, I am a bit over anxious by all the change surrounding me. I shall be more amiable when next we meet."

John feeling the slight, retracted his hand and quit the room. At the door he could hear Mr. Hale scolding Margaret for her offense and explaining that in the north, the handshake was a perfectly acceptable exchange between friends. John did not hear her reply; nor did he care what it was. He was exhausted by the evening's vacillations. When he arrived home, he was relieved to find that his mother had not waited for him. He climbed the stairs to his bed chamber, undressed and climbed into his bed. Sleep was not soon to come as John cycled between the touch of Margaret's hand against his to the fact that her unkind words revealed her true prejudices against him. John hated Mr. Bell for cursing Milton, and him, with Margaret Hale.


	4. Chapter 4

Days in Milton had a keen way of turning into weeks: especially if you were preoccupied with business and the threat of a workers' strike. John continued in his routine the best he could to try and relieve some of the anxiety that he was sure the unceasing whispers were causing his mother. Fanny on the other hand went through life with blinders; spending his money at every opportunity and without thought or regret. It was a bit of a relief to John that Robert Watson, a fellow mill master, had started to show Fanny particular attention. He would not have been the obvious choice as he was at least 10 years Fanny's senior, but he was a sound financial choice, seemed to have a genuine liking of Fanny and, perhaps most importantly, it would be a blessing to have one less mouth to feed should it come to a strike.

John had dismissed his last encounter with Miss Hale. He was glad that his years of self-denial had afforded him the skill of removing the desire for things that were unattainable. He did keep his standing appointments with Mr. Hale, however. It was a welcome break in his day-to-day and he had come to look upon Mr. Hale as a father-figure: something that had been missing in his life for far too many years. Mr. Hale became a confidant and John felt that his dealings with his fellow man were improving because of Mr. Hale's very different perspective on life. He secretly hoped that Mr. Hale enjoyed their meetings with similar feelings and that he would likewise view John as a son he never had. At the very least, the friendship that John had formed with Mr. Hale was important enough for him to ignore the days that he would chance upon Margaret at their tutoring sessions. It was a strange mix of feelings that the woman conjured up in him. Approaching the house every Wednesday evening, John would pray that she would not be home. Upon leaving the house John would feel regret when he did not see her. The few occasions that Margaret did bring tea to them during his lessons were no more comforting for often she entered and exited without a word which left John empty or she would stop to show her father some daughterly affection or another. Simple things really, like fixing his tea for him or placing a kiss on the top of his head as she handed him his cup. These exchanges left John with feelings of jealousy. Regardless, his time with Mr. Hale had become precious to him, and John was willing to undergo the torture of Miss Hale if necessary to keep this friendship.

Upon his request, Mrs. Thornton and Fanny had called upon the Hales. John was not surprised to learn of their opinions upon their return. Both ladies had found Mrs. Hale to be tolerable although much too frail for Mrs. Thornton's taste; Fanny did not really have an opinion of this member of the Hale family. The brunt of the criticism was reserved for Miss Hale. Of course Fanny's distaste for Margaret Hale was born of jealousy and fear that Mr. Watson might find this young woman more interesting than she. Mrs. Thornton's disapproval stemmed from her belief that John had set his sights on this young lady and that she was, in Mrs. Thornton's view at least, not worthy to occupy the same space as John, let alone be his wife.

"Mother, I wish that you would try to like the Hales." John stated. "Mr. Hale has been very kind to me and I do not wish to jeopardize our friendship by having you slighting the rest of his family."

"I was nothing but kind John." Mrs. Thornton replied in defense. "I can assure you that Miss Hale holds us all in contempt more than we do her. In fact, I shouldn't give her a second thought. But if you are insistent on carry on this academic pursuit with Mr. Hale then I suppose I can keep a civil tongue in my head when I am in Miss Hale's presence. I should think those occasions should be few enough that I can demonstrate the necessary decorum to be polite. But I don't like her. Her and her haughty southern manners. Who is she to look down her nose at us; the daughter of an ex-clergyman and practically living in one of the poorest neighborhoods in Milton. I would bet that she has no idea what it is to truly work for anything and therefore, can't respect any one that has truly worked to make their place in this world. I think you should forget about these Hales, John, especially that Miss."

"Well I hear that she spends a great deal of her time down in the Princeton district." Fanny chimed in. Her whining voice, at times, raked John's nerves like fingernails being scratched down a slate board. He could feel his ire rising. "I understand that she keeps company with the Higgins family. Can you imagine, snubbing us and keeping company with the likes of common working folks. It just isn't natural."

Mrs. Thornton shot John a knowing look. Not because Margaret preferred the Princeton district to the more elite parts of town but because it was well known about the Masters of the mills that Higgins was the man heading up the union and pushing the workers toward a strike. What in the world could Miss Hale have to do with such trouble makers?

"I have no concern with whom Miss Hale chooses to send her time." John shot at Fanny. "It is her business. I am sure that she is trying to help the less fortunate; it is the way in which she was raised as a pastor's daughter. It wouldn't hurt you, Fanny, to reach out to those less fortunate every once in a while."

Fanny shot up looking shocked at John and then at her mother, who sat and did nothing to scold her son for chiding his sister in such a way. Realizing that she had no ally in the room, she stomped out of the parlor and up the stairs, slamming the door to her chambers.

"Really, John," Mrs. Thornton began. "You shouldn't scold your sister so unjustly. She does make a good point about Miss Hale. I too find it odd that she would associate with such trouble makers as this Higgins fellow. You, of all people know that you are judged by the company you keep. We know nothing of these Hales. It would not surprise me at all that they were union sympathizers. You need to be careful John. Everything you worked for is in jeopardy if the workers decide to strike; you will need the kinship of all the mill Masters if such an event is to be survived with little effect. Don't alienate yourself from your own by being attached to a lady we know nothing of."

John put his newspaper down and rested his head in his hands. He knew that what his mother said was true. He had not been himself ever since the Hales arrived in Milton. He tried to tell himself that the anxiety over the strike was the source of his restlessness. He knew it was a lie. No matter how much he tried to deny it to himself, he knew that Margaret Hale was the source of his ills. His mother was right, he did need to be sure not to become attached to Margaret. She clearly did not like him, so it should not be difficult. Still John found it to be impossible thus far. He was sure that she did not have any motive in the strike, but it was true that she kept strange company in the Higgins. He chuckled aloud realizing that he would have had more of a chance to win Margaret's favor if he was still a poor man working at the drapers than he did now as an accomplished Master of Marlborough Mills. Irony was a cruel thing.

"I don't think it's funny John." Mrs. Thornton scoffed.

"Neither do I mother. I was just struck by the cruelty of life in thinking that working hard can keep you secure when, in fact, we are never truly safe and free until we die. And then who knows what is in store for us."

Mrs. Thornton walked over to her son and placed a hand on his shoulder. She was not sure that was truly what was on his mind. John easily covered her small hand with his and gave his mother a tired smile. She thought about how strange it was that his hand now enveloped her own. It had seemed not too long ago that he could hide his tiny hand in hers and she could make him feel safe. Making him feel safe from starvation and desolation was easy, shielding him from the pain that she feared Miss Hale would bring upon him was another story. She felt helpless for him.

oooOooo

The following Sunday found John at his gentleman's club. He did not particularly enjoy spending Sunday afternoons there; it actually seemed like a waste of time. He had no wife or children to escape at home. This was the motive of most of the Milton men that came to the club to play billiards, smoke cigars and drink bourbon. John would much rather spend his time in quiet at home reading the newspaper or catching up on his chapters assigned that week by Mr. Hale. However, as a sound businessman, he knew the value of being seen with his fellow mill Masters. He also knew that he needed to stay apprised of the talk of the strike. The club was the best place to do this so he endured the three hours on Sunday afternoon for the sake of good business. As was his custom, John stationed himself near the window that looked over the courtyard outside of the building. From there he could see the front steps of the Lyceum. John recalled that Mr. Hale mentioned that he taught the workers in that building on Sunday afternoons. Therefore, at first it did not seem odd to him that there was a steady line of mill workers streaming into the building. It was only after watching the activity for 15 minutes did John become suspicious. Odder still was the sight of a familiar straw bonnet that seemed to float among the masses of workers moving up the steps and into the building.

"There they are the poor saps, eh Thornton?" John had not noticed Mr. Watson move next to him to share the view out of the window. John did not answer but only narrowed his gaze on the familiar head dress.

"Oh, and there's the worst of it. Isn't that the Hale girl? Odd lot that family. Fanny told me that the young Miss likes to spend her time cavorting with the enemy so to speak. I understand she is a particular favorite of that Higgins chap. What do ya think, Thornton? Perhaps this Miss Hale is the future Mrs. Higgins." Watson laughed at his self-perceived wit. John felt the pounding in his head quicken and only shot Watson an icy look of disapproval careful not to protest too harshly to his mocking of Margaret lest his true feelings be found out.

"Oh, come on now Thornton," Mr. Watson continued. "I was only poking fun. Besides, what is this Miss Hale to you?"

"She is nothing to me." John replied regretfully. "However, her father is a dear friend and the family is good and kind. I don't approve of your type of humor, Watson." John had had enough of the club for the day. He grabbed his hat and coat and set out for home. Before heading into the house, John decided to check the lock on the back door at the mill. It had been malfunctioning as of late and he wanted to be sure that the cotton bales were secure. As he turned, Jasper, a man that Thornton had dismissed for smoking in the bale house approached him.

"Begging your pardon Mr. Thorton." Jasper began.

"You, what the devil do you want. I told you to never step foot near my mill again." John's eyes flashed with renewed anger with the thoughts of the damage that that man's pipe could have brought upon his mill and the lives of his workers.

"Please, sir, 'ear me out. I've been to the Union meet'in, I can tell ya whats Higgins and the lot 'as planned."

John grabbed Jasper by the collar and pushed him hard up against the mill door. "I've no interest in anything you have to say. I told you never to set foot on my mill property again and I meant it. Now off with you before I call the police." John released the man and turned to watch him go realizing that they were not the only people on the street. Margaret and Mr. Hale were standing across the street watching the seemingly ruthless exchange. They had left the Lyceum early since there the Union meeting meant that there would be no lectures. John set his jaw and met Margaret's disapproving look with cold indifference. When the Hales had moved on, John dropped his head into his hands realizing how, without prior knowledge of the dealings with Jasper, the exchange must have looked to them. Damn these feelings of unworthiness. Why could he not be given the opportunity to show Miss Hale his true character so that she might have a better understanding of his person? And damn himself for caring about her opinion at all.


End file.
